


Above and Beyond

by icandrawamoth



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: X-wing Series - All Media Types
Genre: Also kind of, Bathing/Washing, Comfort, Community: fan_flashworks, Consensual Kink, Eggpreg, Hair touching, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kink Discovery, M/M, Negotiations, Other, Oviposition, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Touching, What Have I Done, Xeno, kind of, protective Tycho Celchu, why is that still not a canon tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 10:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: “We are happy to make a deal with the New Republic, on one condition,” the insectoid alien in front of them clicks. "Vedva reproduction requires a mammalian host to incubate our eggs for a time before they are ready to hatch. Such hosts are often hard to find, particularly with the way this planet has been depopulated, and I am in need of one.”“I submit myself for this role, Aycyo,” Wedge says plainly. “Just...tell me what I need to do."





	Above and Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> For fan_flashworks prompt "stretch." Oh, godddd, yeah I actually wrote _and_ posted this. *hides forever*

“We are happy to make a deal with the New Republic, on one condition,” the insectoid alien in front of them, Aycyo, clicks. Tycho has heard these words before, but for some reason, the way Aycyo says them sets his hackles rising.

Wedge, however, doesn't seem to see a problem with it. “I've been authorized to negotiate on behalf of my people. What is your condition?”

“The Vedva are a unique species, Commander, and there are so few of us left in the galaxy.”

“The Empire nearly wiped your people out. I'm sorry, Aycyo, but there isn't anything I can do about that,” Wedge says.

Aycyo flutters her wings together in a sound that's startlingly like a human laugh. “On the contrary, Commander. Vedva reproduction requires a mammalian host to incubate our eggs for a time before they are ready to hatch. Such hosts are often hard to find, particularly with the way this planet has been depopulated, and I am in need of one.”

“So you want me to find you a host?” Wedge sounds puzzled, and Tycho's uneasiness skyrockets.

“You already have an entire squadron here, do you not?” Aycyo purrs. “Surely one of them will be willing to volunteer.”

Tycho is impressed by how fast the frisson of shock washes across Wedge's face and is gone. “I wouldn't ask my people to do that,” he says evenly, though not disrespectfully.

Aycyo bristles. “For the sake of your New Republic, surely you could find your way to doing this one favor for us.”

“What exactly does acting as your host entail?”

“Wedge,” Tycho begins, but is cut off with a wave.

“It is quite simple, really. I will deposit my clutch in the host where the eggs will be incubated for twenty-four hours and then expelled, at which point they will be ready to hatch.”

“How does that work? The...depositing and expelling?” Wedge asks, and Tycho has to bite his lip to keep from interrupting again. He knows they need to secure this alliance, but he still can't quite believe how seriously Wedge is considering this.

Aycyo makes the laughing sound again. “Surely you humans perform sexual acts, Commander. The process is the same – my ovipositor inserted into the host's orifice and the eggs expelled through the same.”

“Of course.” Wedge's face colors slightly, but he doesn't waver. “Must the host be female?”

“Certainly not. We are quite used to using both anal and vaginal entry for this purpose.”

It occurs to Tycho in a flash what's about to happen. “Wedge, _no_ -”

“That's enough, Captain.”

Tycho steps back, stung, but it doesn't make his worry any less intense. _The New Republic needs this_ , he tells himself. _Wedge knows what he's doing._ Gods, he hopes Wedge knows what he's doing.

“I submit myself for this role, Aycyo,” Wedge says plainly. “Just...tell me what I need to do.”

The insectoid's face stretches itself into what can only be the Vedva's version of a smile. “Most excellent! Merely allows us a few minutes to prepare a room for you, and we can begin.”

“That quickly?” Tycho can hear the words as Wedge's nerves slipping out and wonders if Aycyo knows it, too.

“There is no reason for delay,” she says, one hand trailing down her protruding abdomen. Neither of the humans had realized at first that wasn't a normal part of the alien's biology. “I am already past the optimal laying time for previous want of a willing host.”

“Then by all means, let's not delay.”

Aycyo inclines her head. “You may wait here if you like. I will return when I am ready for you.”

Wedge and Tycho return the polite gesture, but as soon as she's out of the room, Tycho is whirling on him. “Wedge, you don't have to do this.”

Wedge slumps a little, relaxing now that he's out of of dignitary mode for a moment. He runs a hand over his face. “It's fine, Tycho. If this is something they're used to doing, something that's safe for humans, I can handle it. She needs help, and we need to secure this trade route. Everyone wins.”

“Except you,” Tycho counters. “I don't think this is going to be as easy as you think. Did you see how big her stomach was? All those eggs are going to be in _you_.”

“Yeah, I got that. But it needs to be done.”

Tycho shakes his head. “Your self-sacrificing bullshit gets really old sometimes, you know?”

Wedge just smiles. “Someone's got to do it, and it's not like I'm going to let it be one of the other Rogues.”

“You ridiculous man.” Tycho pulls him into an embrace, pushing to the back of his mind the fact that he hadn't volunteered himself, hadn't stepped in for Wedge, won't. He grits his teeth but is distracted when he feels a little shudder go through the man in his arms. “Hey...”

Wedge steps away, shaking himself. “It's not that I'm not...nervous,” he admits.

“But you've never let that stop you before,” Tycho finishes for him.

“Exactly. And you'll be here with me.”

“Damn right I will. You can tell Aycyo the deal is off if she tries to send me away.”

“Of course your mate is free to stay by your side throughout the process,” comes the voice of their host.

Wedge stumbles out an apology even as Tycho is silently impressed by her observational skills. Surely he and Wedge weren't that obvious. Perhaps she has another alien sense which informed her.

“Everything is ready now, so if you will follow me.” Aycyo flicks a wing toward the door, and Wedge and Tycho exchange a look before doing so.

“If I can ask a question,” Tycho says as they walk, and is relieved when Wedge doesn't interrupt. “This procedure is safe for humans? He won't be injured?”

“No permanent injury will occur, Captain Celchu,” Aycyo promises. “It is an intense experience, to be sure, something the human body was not made for, but it can cope. In fact, some find it enjoyable.”

Tycho silently raises an eyebrow at Wedge, who blinks.

Aycyo 'laughs'. “We shall see how you react, Commander Antilles. I have the utmost faith that you will come through the experience just fine.”

“I'm grateful for your confidence, Aycyo.”

“Ah, here we are.” The alien ushers them through a doorway. Inside is a small room, occupied only by a desk and chair and a bed with pale blue linens, another door to one side. Not unlike their quarters back on base. “There's a refresher through there. Will this be acceptable for you to occupy for the next day?”

“This is fine, thank you,” Wedge affirms, and Tycho watches as his eyes skitter to the bed.

“I am glad it is to your liking.” Aycyo flits across the room, picking up a glass of dark liquid from the desk and holding it out to Wedge. “Before we begin, you will need to drink this.”

“Corellian whiskey?” Wedge jokes nervously.

“Hardly,” Aycyo answers, amused. “A simple medication. To hold the eggs for the required time, you will be unable to evacuate solids from your body for twenty-four hours. This and the food we will provide for you in the meantime will assure that.”

“Ah.” Without further comment, Wedge downs the liquid. Tycho frowns but doesn't comment. He doesn't truly believe Aycyo intends to harm Wedge, but the way he's so trusting still makes Tycho uneasy.

“If you would undress and lie on your back on the bed, then we can get started.”

“Of course.” Aycyo doesn't give him any privacy, just blinks her multifaceted eyes at him. It would be pointless, Tycho supposes, given what's about to happen. He unclips Wedge's life support box and flak vest, depositing them on the desk before turning him around and helping him remove the rest of his clothing.

Wedge murmurs a thank you, and it's beyond strange to be doing this, for Tycho to be undressing him so someone else can touch him so intimately. He shakes the thought away, though; there's no going back now, and it would be laughable to consider this any kind of real infidelity. Once Wedge is completely bare, he climbs onto the bed awkwardly, laying on his back, propped on his elbows as he looks questioningly at Aycyo. Tycho follows his gaze as he stands to the side trying not to fidget.

“You might sit by his head,” the Vedva encourages. “Being in contact may help keep him calm.”

“Keep him calm?” Tycho repeats, voice rising.

“Yes. As I said, the process can be overwhelming, for human males particularly.”

Wedge looks at him, something uncomfortably like sudden fear in his eyes, and Tycho crosses to him immediately. _I'm here_ , he's saying silently as he positions himself behind his commander, friend, and lover, easing his head into his lap, fingertips grazing his hair. _I don't like this, but I'm not going anywhere._ Wedge relaxes into him with a breath.

Aycyo gives them that look that might be a smile again. “There, now we are ready to begin.” She moves forward, bracing herself over Wedge on the bed. When he doesn't protest, she closes her eyes, shuddering slightly, and Tycho watches as her ovipositor emerges, long and thin, dripping with some kind of natural lubricant. “I'm going to enter you now, Commander,” she murmurs.

Wedge tenses just a little, and Tycho squeezes his shoulder just as Aycyo moves, spearing Wedge with the ovipositor, and he gasps, twitching against Tycho, but just as quickly muttering, “I'm all right. It's all right.”

“Very good, Commander,” the alien murmurs. She's silent for long moments then, and Tycho watches with wide eyes as the ovipositor begins to thicken and harden, Wedge's breaths speeding as his body stretches for it. Tycho's eyes roam his face, watching for any pain, but there's only the slight strain of his body acclimating.

Just as Tycho is starting to worry how big the ovipositor is going to get, is seems to stop growing, not much bigger than the average human cock. Wedge breathes out slowly.

“Now, Commander,” Aycyo pants, “I will give you my clutch.” She makes a soft sound, like relief, and a bulge forms at the point where her ovipositor meets her body. Tycho hadn't thought to ask about the size or number of eggs, but judging by the shape as it moves slowly down until it disappears from Tycho's view, it's about the size of a greenputt ball. How many will there be?

“ _Oh_ ,” Wedge gasps as the egg enters his body, jerking slightly.

“All right?” Tycho asks warily.

“Yeah, it's just...strange.”

More eggs roll down the ovipositor, seeming to flow faster now that the act has started. Tycho thinks to count them at first, but then he's distracted by equal parts horror and fascination as Wedge's belly begins to bulge with the mass of them. There must be so many...

Wedge's breath speeds, more labored the more he's filled, and Tycho is about to check in again when Wedge gasps suddenly, sharp and jagged, and then he's trying to pull away, panting, “No, it's too much. Please-”

“Commander, I cannot stop in the middle of the act,” Aycyo says, her hands tightening on Wedge's waist, holding him down.

But Wedge is still muttering in distress, and Tycho's heart stampedes, hands touching Wedge's face, trying to distract or comfort him as the man fitfully attempts to push both he and Aycyo away.

The woman's gaze flits to Tycho, imploring. “The eggs will not be viable without a host. And though I promised I would not hurt him, he may injure himself if he continues to struggle.”

Tycho hates everything about this, but at least it appears their new ally harbors some care for Wedge's well-being in this. Every fiber of him wants to say _no_ , that Wedge is in pain and this is over right now, but he believes Aycyo when she says interrupting might hurt him more. “Hey, Wedge,” he murmurs, learning over him and trying to catch his eye. “Sweetheart, it's all right. It'll be over soon. You're all right. You can do this.” But he doesn't know if Wedge can hear as he continues his effort to break free.

Tycho steels himself as he grips Wedge's hands in his and whispers words he knows the man will always hear. “Listen to me, Wedge. The New Republic needs this alliance, and for that we need you. You're the only one who can do this. We're counting on you.”

Wedge whimpers plaintively, and it stabs at Tycho's heart, but after another moment he goes still. He's trembling all over, but he's not actively trying to escape any longer.

“That's it.” Tycho tentatively lets one hand go, and when Wedge doesn't move again, goes back to stroking his face. “You're doing so well, love. It's nearly done.” Then he looks back up at Aycyo, his gaze going hard-edged. “Get it over with.”

Aycyo silently inclines her head and returns to work. Tycho tries not to watch as Wedge's stomach balloons even farther, skin unnaturally stretched and distended. He strokes his cheeks, wiping away overwhelmed tears, and continues to murmur encouragement and reassurance. Soon enough, he sees the line of Aycyo's back relax as she lets out a long sigh, and then she's leaning back, the ovipositor contracting and softening before sliding from Wedge's body, lewdly trailing a thick string of slick.

“It's finished,” she breathes, sounding exhausted. “You did well, Commander.”

Wedge doesn't respond. He has his face turned into Tycho's thigh as he gasps for breath, stretched belly heaving with every moment of his chest. His hair is streaked with sweat, skin tacky with it.

“I'll leave you two alone for now,” she says, and again comes that maybe-smile. “There are cloths in the refresher for bathing. A meal will be delivered in a few hours, and I will come to check on you in the morning.” Her gaze flits to Tycho. “Though bed rest is not required, it may be preferred. He need simply remain comfortable until the time comes to expel the eggs.”

Tycho nods grudgingly. He doesn't know what to say to her for putting Wedge in this situation. He knows she needed it and that Wedge agreed, but he can't separate himself from the fact that Wedge is still here because of her, struggling for breath around this unnatural use of his body.

Seeing she won't be getting a response, Aycyo merely bows her head, softly thanks them, and retreats from the room.

As soon as she's gone, Tycho is turning back to the man on the bed, worry leaking through his tone as he says, “Talk to me, Wedge.”

“I'm all right,” Wedge manages between pants. He shivers slightly as one hand moves to brace itself on his bloated belly. “It's just...a lot. Pressure. So full...” He closes his eyes, tries to steady his breathing.

Tycho bites his lip, fingers trailing helplessly across his lover's hair. “What can I do?”

“Fetch one of those cloths?” Wedge suggests softly, and though Tycho is loathe to leave him even for a moment, he nods.

As carefully as he can, he eases himself from beneath Wedge and lowers him onto a pillow. Stepping through the room's other door, he finds a tiny refresher. It's the work of only seconds to locate the cloths, blue like the bedclothes, in a cupboard and wet one before returning to Wedge's side.

He sits himself next to Wedge, starts on his face, gentle strokes to wipe away the drying sweat there. Wedge sighs contentedly, turning his flushed face into the cool contact. Next is his neck, then his chest, and Tycho hesitates before reaching for his belly. “Can I-?”

“It's all right,” Wedge tells him again. He seems to have calmed now, breathing less jagged, body acclimating to its new and unusual burden.

Tycho runs the cloth over Wedge's middle gently, oddly fascinated by the way it curves just slightly in a way it never has before. It's so strange. Tycho has known Wedge's body as well as his own for a long time, and this is _wrong_ , and yet it's strangely gripping.

Wedge lets out a tight laugh. “Is this actually turning you on?” His voice is teasing but it makes Tycho's stomach jolt just the same.

He schools his expression as he continues to clean him. “I never did think I'd get to see what you look like pregnant.”

Wedge huffs again, but he's watching Tycho intently. Heart suddenly thumping wildly, Tycho sets the cloth aside and reaches for his belly with bare hands. His first touch is gentle, just the skim of fingertips across hot, tight skin. He imagines he can feel the curve of the eggs within, but he's not sure. He presses a little harder.

And Wedge gasps with it, Tycho whipping his gaze up to see the other man squeezing his eyes closed, suddenly breathing hard again.

“Did I hurt you?” Tycho asks, jerking his hands away as he fights down panic. It hits him once more how very much he doesn't know how any of this works. “Should I call for Aycyo?”

“No, no.” Wedge's voice is shaky as he lifts a trembling hand to cover his face. “Kriff,” he breathes. “That's not it.”

Tycho looks down at him again, and now he realizes what's happening. Wedge's cock has taken an interest in the proceedings. Aycyo's words come back to him, the alien's enigmatic statement about some people finding this enjoyable. Of course, Tycho realizes, with Wedge's body so full, surely the eggs are resting against his prostrate, and when Tycho touched him...

He does it again, fingers pressing lightly into Wedge's bulging stomach, dragging slowly back and forth to find just the right spot. He's gratified when Wedge shudders and groans.

“Tycho-” he pants, staring up at him with bleary eyes and red cheeks. “We shouldn't.”

Tycho finds a little smile working itself onto his face, less worried than he's been since this started. “Aycyo did say some people enjoy this,” he points out. “And I'd say you deserve something good out of it.”

“I'm not doing it for me,” Wedge says, and Tycho rolls his eyes.

“What if _I_ want to do something for you?” he counters, and he locks eyes with Wedge as he slowly licks his palm and reaches for Wedge's cock.

Wedge's response is immediate, a whine escaping before he clamps teeth on his lip, a full-body shudder as Tycho strokes him slow and steady, drawing him expertly toward his pleasure. It doesn't take long at all before Wedge is crying out, biting his fist to keep in the sound as he shakes apart and goes limp on the bed. Tycho smiles over him, picking up the cloth and gently cleaning up the new mess.

Wedge lets out a panting laugh as he runs a hand over his face. “Didn't think I was going to get that today,” he admits.

“Life's full of surprises.” Tycho eases the cloth between Wedge's legs to erase the strands of lubricant still there, gentling the touch when Wedge's breath hitches.

“You can say that again.”

Finished, Tycho tosses the cloth back into the refresher and look down at Wedge. “Now what?”

“We let the rest of the squadron know we'll be here at least overnight.” Wedge chews his lip. “We maybe don't tell them exactly why.”

Tycho bites back a smile. “You mean you don't want to show off your new physique for all of them?”

“Absolutely not.” Wedge looks over at him, amusement playing across his own face. “And, my dear XO, I'm going to need you to make that call. You're a much better liar than me.”

Tycho snorts. “Thanks, boss.” But he pulls out his comlink and thumbs to the squadron frequency. Everyone is eager to know how the meeting went and glad to find out the answer is “well.” Tycho makes up some vague excuse about how he and Wedge are doing a favor for the Vedva and the squadron is free amuse themselves for the next day assuming they stay out of trouble.

When he signs off and tucks the comlink away, he looks back down to find Wedge has drifted off, breathing slow and even, body relaxed. It's good to see him that way. Despite their jokes and the advantage they've taken, Tycho knows he's stressed, physically and mentally. Anyone would be.

Moving slowly to avoid disturbing the bed, Tycho spreads himself next to him, not curbing the urge to put an arm around him. He only intends to lay there, to keep watch over Wedge while he sleeps, but then a knock at the door is waking him, and Tycho calls for whoever it is to wait a moment as he pulls the blanket over Wedge to preserve at least some of his modesty and pads to the door.

It's another Vedva, pushing a cart laden with a pot of soup, a pitcher of water, and the attendant dishes and tableware. “He is well?” the alien asks Tycho, glancing at Wedge still sleeping on the bed as she pushes the cart inside.

“As well as he can be,” Tycho allows.

The Vedva nods. “We are pleased to hear it. If there is any problem or either of you need anything, you need only ask.”

“Thank you.”

The alien bows slightly and withdraws. Tycho returns to the bed, rousing Wedge with a gentle touch. “Dinner's here, love,” he murmurs.

Wedge blinks awake, frowning for a moment as he looks down at himself. “Not a weird dream, then,” he comments as he looks up at Tycho.

“Nope.”

It's something of an effort to get him sitting upright enough to eat, and Tycho doesn't know whether to be worried or aroused by the sounds Wedge makes as he shifts, but they manage it. The soup is good, something hot and fragrant Tycho has never tasted before, and when they're full, they relax on the bed again, Tycho's hand resting on Wedge's belly.

Now that he's been allowed to touch, he can't seem to stop. He doesn't understand his own fascination with it, because so much of him wants it _gone_ , wants Wedge back to being comfortable and normal, and yet...

“You're worrying too much,” Wedge tells him, and Tycho instantly quips back, “You're not worrying enough.”

Wedge chuckles and snags his free hand, twining their fingers together. “I'm just glad you're not so horrified by this you'd never want to touch me again.”

Tycho snorts. “You'd have to an awful lot more work to make that happen.”

Wedge hums happily, then admits after awhile, “I'm still tired.”

“Go back to sleep. We don't have anything more important to do.”

Wedge smiles. “This might almost be luxurious if weren't for, you know.”

“Yeah.”

Together, they get Wedge on his side into a more comfortable sleeping position, and it doesn't take long for him to drift off again. This time, Tycho manages to stay awake longer, watching him rest as the light though the room's little window slowly fades to darkness. He eventually succumbs as well.

The night is long, though. Wedge keeps waking up, wiggling and shifting on the bed, unable to find a position he's satisfied with for long. Twice, Tycho helps him to the bathroom, an arduous and slow journey. Then, once, just as light is starting to touch the sky, Wedge wakes Tycho and guiltily whispers in his ear that he's hard again, and slowly, tantalizing, Tycho brings him off under the blanket, drinking in his little whimpers and sighs like the finest vintage.

Full morning finds them already awake and waiting when the same Vedva returns with breakfast, another soup, this one cool and sweet. Tycho watches Wedge eat as he checks in with the Rogues again, then sits back down on the bed.

“You doing all right?”

Wedge nods. “I've mostly gotten used to it I think.” His cheeks redden as he adds, “Now I'm wondering what it's going to be like when they're out.”

“You'll have to get used to that again. Probably take some time for everything to go back to normal down there, but Aycyo promised you'd be fine.” _And if she was wrong_ , Tycho promises, _I'll kill her myself._ “And you'll have to start wearing clothes again,” he adds to lighten the mood.

Wedge hums agreement. He hands his empty bowl to Tycho to set aside, then turns, his eyes pinning the blond as he sits back down.

“What?”

Wedge smirks. “It just occurred to me that you've gotten me off twice now during this and I haven't returned the favor.”

Tycho feels heat flush through him but beats it back with a scoff. “It's not like you owe me.”

“But I think I do. Come here.”

He shouldn't, Tycho thinks, but he knows he's going to anyway. He edges closer, letting Wedge begin the work of pulling off the remaining clothes he hadn't removed before going to sleep last night before standing to finish himself. When he's naked, Wedge reaches and draws him back down, struggling to roll over so they're facing each other.

Wedge leans in for a kiss as his hand finds Tycho, and Tycho groans into it. He knows how Wedge feels, odd and guilty for being turned on by any of this, but it's there nonetheless, and Wedge is allowing it, so he lets himself go, thrusting into his grip, letting Wedge lick into his mouth.

“Tycho,” Wedge breathes, and he shifts just a little, the hand on him shifting to the small of his back, pulling him closer. Tycho's cock slides against his belly, and he gasps at the sensation. “Come on.”

Wedge tugs at him again, and again Tycho does what he wants, apparently what they both want, and thrusts shallowly against him, takes his pleasure against the bulge of Wedge's flesh. And when Wedge starts panting, too, Tycho takes him in hand in turn, intense heat rising between them until suddenly it bursts, and they're left panting against each other, light-headed and pleasure-spent.

“Fuck,” Tycho manages when he can finally drag in a breath. His forehead is pressed to Wedge's, lips absently dragging across his cheek. “Wedge-” He doesn't even know what to say.

“I love you,” is what Wedge says, turning to kiss him properly. “I love that you're here with me and that it's not just awful for both of us.”

“I am, and I do,” Tycho promises fervently as he deepens the kiss. “I love you, too.”

They sleep again after that, sticky and exhausted, and it's easier this time. They awake in the early afternoon, and Tycho dresses and cleans them of their earlier activities, laughing at the faces Wedge makes as he scrapes the dried cum off their bellies and tries valiantly to salvage the sheets.

And then it's time. Aycyo returns carrying a stewpot-sized device Tycho can only imagine is some kind of incubator. “I trust you were not in too much discomfort?” she says as she prepares, setting the device at the end of the bed and having Wedge lift his legs to spread a thick towel across the mattress.

“I managed,” Wedge tells her, and Tycho idly wonders what Aycyo would think if she knew exactly how well they managed some of that time.

“I am glad to hear it. Now, the expelling procedure is very simple, Commander. You simply push the eggs out of your body, and I will retrieve them and transfer them to the incubation device where they will remain until hatching time.”

She holds up a small syringe, and Tycho tenses at once. “What is that?”

“Merely a mild muscle stimulant,” she explains, looking from him to Wedge. “It will encourage your body to dispel the eggs. Whether you would like to use it is your choice, Commander.”

Wedge nods, and before Aycyo pulls the blanket off of him, Tycho is back in his place at his head, without asking or being asked. He takes Wedge's hand as Aycyo inserts the needle into his bottom, Wedge reacting with the barest shiver.

But then he gasps softly and shifts on the bed, the effects of the stimulant apparently that immediate. “I don't-” he mutters, panic rising, and Tycho is quick to console him, eyes darting to Aycyo.

“Push, Commander,” the alien encourages. “I assure you it will be easy.”

Wedge's eyes flicker closed, strain on his face, and Tycho watches, that same horror and fascination as before, as his body moves, and then Aycyo is reaching forward, and he catches sight of the first egg. It's pitch black, smooth and perfectly round and shiny with fluid. Beautiful.

Another sound from Wedge, and another egg emerges, then another. Tycho squeezes his hand, murmurs encouragement as they come one after another, his body deflating until he looks like himself again. It takes less time than he would have thought.

“There.” Aycyo is giving them that alien smile as she wipes Wedge clean and waves some sort of medical scanner over his middle before tucking it away again. “That is every one. You have been incredible, Commander, and the entire Vedva race thanks you.”

“Glad to have done my duty,” Wedge manages, and the way he's trying to pull his diplomatic voice in this situation makes Tycho smile. “Now that our exchange is complete, I'll have my executive officer here give you the proper codes and frequencies to get in touch with-”

Aycyo is shaking her head, but kindly. “Rest for now, Commander Antilles. There will be time for that. I know you have been under strain, and you need time to recover.”

Wedge's chin dips in a nod. “As you say.”

“Your help has been appreciated as well, Captain Celchu,” she says, turning to him. “This truly could not have been accomplished otherwise. Commander Antilles is lucky to have you.”

Wedge smiles silently in his lap, and Tycho can't help but return it as he runs fingers through his hair. “I like to think so, Aycyo.”

“You are both free to remain here as long as you wish. Tomorrow, there will be a gala celebrating the joining of our peoples and the birth of the next generation of Vedva. You will be able to meet the hatchlings you helped bring into this world, of course.”

“We would be honored,” Wedge says.

“I must bring the eggs to the next step of the process. Until then, Commander, Captain.” Then she picks up her supplies and is gone.

“A gala,” Tycho muses, looking down at Wedge. “You love those.”

Wedge sighs but there's no venom behind it “Duty calls.”

“I'm surprised you're not done with duty for awhile after all this.”

“We'll see how it goes.” He looks up at Tycho, eyes dancing with amusement. “After two days of essentially being on bed rest, I may have forgotten how to do actual work.”

“Oh, I very much doubt that.”


End file.
